


Let Me Fill Your Heart

by mae428



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Oliver is angsty, Oliver is sad, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 12:16:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13658793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mae428/pseuds/mae428
Summary: A year in Oliver's life after leaving Crema.Based on I Just Called To Say I Love You, by Stevie Wonder





	Let Me Fill Your Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I actually found writing from Oliver's POV super hard. Be gentle - this isn't that good - but I am open to comments/suggestion/criticism/feedback.
> 
> song: https://youtu.be/QwOU3bnuU0k

**Part I**

*

_No Libra sun_

_No Halloween_

_No giving thanks to all the Christmas joy you bring_

*

I wish I could say I was able to walk away from Elio without heartbreak, or at least with the knowledge that even if I was suffering, he would be okay. We made no promises to keep in touch, and I didn't want to. I wanted him to live his own life. This was for the best. Or at least, that's what I kept telling myself all through the train ride to Linate. All through my flight home. All through the cab ride to my apartment.

Everything felt so foreign when I got home. There was no Mafalda waiting with a home-cooked meal. No Samuel with a story about a new excavation. No chamomile and lavender soap. No Elio in my bed.

It was torture, I was sure it was. I’d just spent two months in Heaven, and two weeks in the bed of the most precious person I’d ever met, and suddenly it was all ripped away in an instant. I collapsed onto my bed, just like I had when Elio showed me into his room - our room - that first afternoon. I probably should have showered or unpacked or had dinner, but every one of those options seemed more unbearable than the next.

My chest panged and I made a pitiful sound as I rolled over onto my back. I stared up at the ceiling for a second before closing my eyes again. Would the hurt ever end? Would I ever be able to look back on my time with Elio with a smile instead of a grimace? I wondered what Elio was doing right at that moment. Was he thinking of me as well?

My buddies from Columbia forced me out for lunch a week after I’d gotten back. I’d put off seeing people for that long, despite the bright sun and warm weather, but I supposed with classes starting up again in another week, I couldn’t hole myself up in my apartment anymore.

“Oliver, come on,” James said, reaching over to punch at my arm. “Tell us about Italy. You come home from the land of good wine and beautiful women and you lock yourself up for a week.”

I looked down at my now cold coffee. It was too watery and not strong enough, not like the coffee Samuel made every morning. James’ words stung, and it must’ve shown on my face.

“What, did little Ollie fall in love with a bella donna?” Robert’s fake Italian accent was horrible and I rolled my eyes at him.

“No,” I sighed. “Un bel ragazzo.” Robert and James were the only two of my friends who were open-minded, and I had felt comfortable confessing to them, after more than a few drinks, that I was also interested in men. I saw Robert about to ask a follow-up, and I thought about how I could possibly explain or describe Elio to anyone who hadn’t met him. I broke down then. I’d never cried in front of my friends before, and if I wasn’t so heartbroken, I would have been embarrassed. I hid my face in my hands and wept, shoulders shaking with the force of it.

“Shit, Ol,” James sighed, reaching across the table to pat my shoulder. “It’s alright, buddy. We’re gonna figure it out.”

“There’s nothing to figure out,” I argued as I wiped my nose on the sleeve of my shirt. I knew that somewhere in Northern Italy, there was a very similar one, probably long forgotten and discarded on the floor of a closet. The thought made my chest ache. “We had a summer fling. That’s all it was and all it ever could be.”

Classes started shortly thereafter, and I was in no better of a state. How was I expected to teach students who were just a few years older than Elio every single day and not think of him? The time I spent on campus or in my office for after-hours moved too slow for my liking. At least when I was at my apartment I could just get into bed and wallow in peace.

September came and went, and it was suddenly Halloween.

“Oliver, come on,” Robert said, dressed as Han Solo from _Star Wars_.He had his arm around Karen, his latest conquest, who was dressed as a cat. She was snapping her gum and I wanted her out of my apartment immediately. “Danny is Lando and James is Vader; you’d be the perfect Luke.”

He was trying to get me to go to Elsa Palmer’s Halloween party and I just couldn’t face it. There would be too many people there, and I wasn’t ready to socialize that much; I was barely able to handle seeing my friends once a week for coffee.

“Nah, I’m gonna stick around here and eat a shit ton of candy.” I tried to hold back the sadness from creeping through in my voice, but it was pointless.

“Fine, you're off the hook for tonight,” Robert sighed, finally having realized that there was nothing he could say or do to get me off of my couch.

When Robert and Karen finally left, my apartment felt way too empty. Along with the usual din of the city, there was an added layer of chatter out on the streets with Trick-or-Treaters and party goers alike. After a few minutes, I shut my window to drown out the noise and got into bed. It was only 9:30, but I somehow convinced myself that that was a normal time to go to bed.

The autumn passed with much of the same. I was able to stave off many pleas to socialize. I felt only slightly guilty about it; my friends were making such a huge effort to get me out of the house, but there wasn’t anything they could do to convince me that going to a party, getting wasted, and fending off wanton women would be better than staying home.

Just before Christmas, I received a phone call. I was sat at my desk grading my students’ papers and I picked up, a bit distracted.

“Hello?”

The line was silent and I sat up straight in my chair. My first thought was Elio, calling in a moment of desperation, calling to tell me he loved me and wanted to be with me. My heart nearly beat out of my chest and I held onto the phone tighter.

“Oliver, hey. It’s Susan.”

I let out the breath I was holding and hung my head. How could I have been so stupid? Of course Elio wasn’t calling me.

“Hey, Sue,” I sighed against the receiver. She and I had been on-again off-again for two years now, and the thought of being on _again_ mady my stomach twist.

“Hey, Ollie,” her voice was softer now, and sweet. I felt bile rise up in my throat. “I haven’t seen you since you got back. I miss you, baby.”

“Yeah, I-” I swallowed and shut my eyes tight. Did I really want to go down this road? I hadn’t heard from Elio in about four months. His father had written me once to wish me luck at the start of the semester, but made no mention of Elio. There seemed to be no hope that I would ever get to be with him again. I was forgotten, a summer memory that vanished under a blanket of snow. “I miss you too, Suze. Look, why don’t you come over for dinner?”

We made plans for her to come that Friday, and as soon as I hung up the phone, I threw up my measly dinner of coffee and toast. I sat on the bathroom floor, my head pressed against the cool porcelain of the toilet. I thought back to that night in Bergamo, when I kissed Elio after he vomited. I was sick again with the thought that Susan would never deem to do anything of the sort.

I looked at myself in the mirror as I brushed my teeth. I was pale and gaunt and my eyes looked dead. Maybe getting together with Susan wouldn’t be too bad.

 

**Part II**

*

_No New Year's Day to celebrate_

_No chocolate covered candy hearts to give away_

_No first of spring, no song to sing_

_In fact here's just another ordinary day_

*

Susan and I officially got back together the day after Christmas. We’d been meeting for coffees and dinners since she called me, and finally, while just relaxing at my apartment watching TV, she laid it all out on the table.

“Look, Ollie. We’re not getting any younger.” I wanted to kick her out before she could get any further. “Why don’t we seriously try this time, and see where things go. I can tell it’s going to be different. _You_ are different after your trip, and I’m not going to force you to tell me why. But I think that we should give things a shot.”

I agreed, albeit listlessly. I needed to take steps to get Elio out of my head. I knew that a piece of me would forever be with him, that in some sort of parallel universe the two of us were still happy in Crema together. But it was almost 1984, and I needed to get a grip on reality.

Her family invited us for New Year’s Eve out in Connecticut. It was an affair I probably would have enjoyed five years ago, but it was actually so idiotic and trivial. I could hear Elio in my mind making fun of everyone and the tiny hors d'oeuvre going around on trays. Susan was from a wealthy Jewish family, like I was, so everyone in attendance was dressed to the nines and decked in the finest family jewels. I tugged at the collar of my tux and I couldn’t help but wonder what Elio was up to for New Year. I honestly had expected him to call me at Hanukkah or Christmas, and I was severely disappointed when he didn’t. It was just another nail in the coffin, signifying he really had moved on.

 _Well_ , I thought to myself as Susan fetched me another glass of champagne, _he’s better for it. I wish it were only so easy for me._

As the night progressed, the seemingly intermittent doom of true adulthood reigned down upon me. I was 25; I needed to start seriously thinking about my future. Elio, it seemed, didn’t want to be part of that future.

At five minutes to midnight, we all gathered in the living room, one so spacious that my entire apartment could fit into it twice over. Susan sidled up to me and I wrapped my arm around her trim waist, wishing for a moment that my hand was met with Elio’s soft striped tank top instead of sequins.

“10, 9, 8, 7…” I plastered on a huge smile and joined in on the countdown. I raised my glass in a toast once we hit midnight and turned to kiss Susan.

“Will you marry me?” I asked, very quietly. Maybe if I kept my eyes closed long enough she would magically transform into Elio.

“Oh, Ollie!” Susan squealed, looping both of her arms around my neck and tugging me down for more kisses. “Of course I will!”

Yes, this was for the best. I had to get a move on with my life. I couldn’t waste away pining for what I could never have. I didn’t predict our marriage would be entirely happy, not with my heart belonging forever and always to Elio, but I could at least try to pretend.

We planned the wedding for June, just six months from our engagement. Her family threw us an engagement party the Saturday before Valentine’s Day, which was possibly the most disgustingly sappy thing that I could conjure. My parents, of course, were invited. I hadn’t seen them in a year and a half, but there they were, sitting across from me. I wanted to throw up.

“We’re so proud to welcome Oliver into our family,” Susan's father said as he raised a glass. “He’s brilliant, kind, funny, and makes our Suzie smile like no one else can.”

Susan took my hand and squeezed, the band of my grandmother’s engagement ring digging into my skin. I zoned out for the end of my father-in-law to-be’s speech, only snapping out of it when I found everyone looking at me expectantly.

“Ollie?” Susan asked, pushing a stray lock of hair off my forehead. “Do you want to say anything?” From her tone, it didn’t sound like I had a choice.

I cleared my throat and put on a blinding smile. “Thanks, Mr. Aarons.” I stood and picked up my glass and I let my other hand fall to Susan’s shoulder. “Words can’t describe how happy I am to be here with all of you today. I first want to thank you all for coming out to celebrate with me and Susan.” I paused and swallowed thickly. “True love, for most of us, comes once in a lifetime.” I was spewing typical romance movie lines, but everyone was eating it right up. “I’m very lucky that I found Susan, and even luckier that she stooped low enough to marry me!”

There were soft chuckles from the crowd, and I instantly regretted making eye contact with Robert and James. They both looked at me with sad eyes, and I felt a pang in my chest. They’d been so supportive since I had returned from Italy. They made every effort to try and cheer me up and get my mind off of Elio. They were both floored when I told them I would be marrying Susan. They questioned my decision at first, but when I explained my thought process, they too realized that I seemed to be out of options. They were the only other people in my life that knew I would never be happy with Susan, no matter how hard I tried.

“In all seriousness, I want to thank the Aarons family for so graciously welcoming me into their lives, especially when I first moved to New York. And I can’t wait for Susan and I to start a family of our own. We’re looking forward to celebrating with all of you in June!” Everyone cheered and clinked glasses, and everyone cooed when I gave Susan a soft kiss.

“Come visit us soon, Oliver,” my mother pleaded as I walked her and my father out to their car.

“I will,” I said, although I didn’t promise anything. My parents and I had always been on rocky terms. I was headstrong and determined, but not in the way they wanted me to be. I was not the good little Jewish boy they had envisioned for themselves. However, my impending marriage to Susan seemed to quell their disappointment; to them, the best thing I could do was marry into another strong Jewish family and extend the lineage.

It was nearly 11 pm when we got back to the apartment. I left Susan in the living room to watch SNL, claiming I was tired from the festivities.

“But Robin Williams is on tonight!”

“I’m sorry, Suze, I’m wiped.” I squeezed her shoulder and pressed a kiss to the top of her forehead.

I listened from the bedroom as Williams gave his opening monologue.

“Best news for me that I have is that...I am a father.” The crowd cheered and clapped and I rolled over onto my stomach. Why did she have to keep the volume up so high?

“Such responsibility being a father. You can’t come home drunk anymore saying, ‘Daddy wants to play. Here’s a little switch: _I’m_ gonna throw up on _you_.’” I could hear Susan’s laugh, light and airy, and I felt sick to my stomach. “No, being a father you feel incredible. It’s something very special to me…” He started in on a crack about breastfeeding, and that’s when I had to get up and take one of the sleeping pills we usually saved for long bus or plane rides.

I got back into bed with the hope that the medicine would kick in immediately to spare me from my racing thoughts. As much as I wanted to call off the wedding and fly back to Italy, I knew I couldn’t ruin Elio’s life more than I already had. We were summer lovers, that was all. He was young; he needed to move on and live a full and happy life. I would have to settle on just seeing him in my dreams.

Susan came in an indeterminable amount of time later. She cozied up behind me, but I was too drowsy to shift out of her grasp. Maybe I could pretend, just for one night, that the slim arms wrapped around me were Elio’s.

Winter seemed to last forever. Grey skies, snowy sidewalks, below freezing temperatures, and wedding planning seemed to be the entirety of my life for the foreseeable future. Talk about pathetic fallacy. It was my last semester of my doctorate program and I felt like it would never end. But that opened a huge flood of more questions I had to answer. Would I stay at Columbia and teach? Would I focus more on research or excavations? Helping Susan pick colors and flowers and fucking _napkins_ was easier, though, so I pushed the more important life questions off for a few months longer.

By April, it was still frigid and grey. Maybe I was destined to never have a summer again; maybe the last summer I would ever experience was the one I spent with Elio.

 

**Part III**

*

_No April rain_

_No flowers bloom_

_No wedding Saturday within the month of June_

*

Finally, after what seemed like eons, the depressing weather finally broke. It was a relatively dry spring, and the evidence of that was clear when walking through the park. The grass was brown and patchy which seemed to deter people from taking advantage of the spacious lawns. That was fine by me though: it just gave way to more lonely walks through the park and more time to wallow in my own pit of despair.

“Holy shit, dude,” Robert said one rainy afternoon in early May. He, James, and I were in the library, peer reviewing our dissertations. I looked up and cocked a brow. “Your wedding is in like...a month.”

“What the fuck, asshole,” James hissed, obviously kicking Robert under the table. It was too late though, he’d already brought it up.

“Yeah, I know.” I leaned back in my chair and scrubbed a hand over my face. “Suze isn’t letting me forget it.” There was a slightly awkward silence as they stared at me. I didn’t engage, just kept my head tipped back and a hand over my eyes.

“Have you told Elio?” James asked tentatively. It was Robert’s turn to kick James.

They had both suggested I call Elio to tell him, that it might bring me some closure. I couldn’t bring myself to do it, though. I didn’t want to reopen any wounds for him, and I didn’t know if I could handle hearing his voice.

“It’s best if he doesn’t know.” I wished my voice wasn’t so shaky.

“But -”

I cut Robert off before he could continue. “No.” I let the front of my chair fall back to the floor and I sat up with a deep breath. I hoped there was enough finality in my tone. “This is the way it has to be.”

Susan had been spending nearly every day at my apartment, only giving me respite a mere handful of times. I supposed I had to get used to it though, since I hadn’t heard of any married couples living in separate apartments. Her toothbrush was in the holder next to mine, her clothes were in the closet, and her makeup was all over my desk.

“Ollie,” Suzie purred, coming up behind me as I was cooking breakfast one Saturday. I closed my eyes and sighed. I hated this, the fake intimacy. It was exhausting and it made me feel sick.

“Morning, baby,” I returned, putting my toast on a plate before turning to face her. I tried to smile convincingly, but I knew it didn’t quite reach my eyes. I was positive that she couldn’t tell, though. The only person who could was probably Elio.

“Mmmh, there’s my handsome boy.”

“Yep, that’s me.” I scrubbed the back of my neck and shifted awkwardly. 

“Let’s go back to bed,” Susan pleaded, mistaking my hesitation for coyness. Her hand found mine and she tugged me in the direction of the bedroom.

“My toast - ” But it was useless. Once Susan set her mind on sex, there was no turning back.

I wished I could have stayed celibate. After Elio, there wouldn’t be another person who could ever make me feel so good again. Without telling Susan why I wouldn’t fuck her, though, there just wasn’t any way around it.

It wasn’t mind blowing, it wasn’t passionate, it wasn’t anything more to me than another thing I had to check off my to to list. There was no connection between us, at least not on my end. Afterwards, just like after every other time, I felt so guilty that I stayed in bed for a majority of the day. The guilt was multifaceted: I felt bad doing this to Susan, but on a deeper level, I felt like I was betraying Elio.

Susan never questioned my alone time in bed after sex. Honestly, she probably thought she’d done such a good job just laying there that she’d tired me out. How little she knew about what I really wanted, about what I could _really_ do if I only had the right person in my bed.

It was three weeks before the wedding when she brought up the most dreaded topic I could think of.

“Your lease is up in six months,” she said, matter of fact. We were watching _Days Of Our Lives_ , and I was embarrassed to admit that I knew, and was interested in, every storyline.

“Hmm…” I was distracted by Peter Reckell as Bo Brady dressed as Rhett Butler to give much thought to where the conversation was going.

“Well, I was thinking we should start looking at places, maybe out on Long Island. Aunt Miryam lives out in Great Neck and she said she has a real estate agent who can take us around.” I was adverse to moving outside of Manhattan, especially since I tentatively accepted a teaching position at Columbia.

“I was thinking of renewing my lease,” I answered, brows furrowed. “This place is perfect for us. It’s the right size, the rent is cheap, and it’s close to Columbia.”

“Yes, but…” Susan stretched her legs over the couch and wriggled her toes against my thigh. I was really invested in the episode and I didn’t want her distracting me. I made the devastating mistake of taking a sip of my water just as she gave her explanation: “I was thinking we’d have kids in a few months.”

I choked on my water and I had to take in shuddering gasps of air after almost hacking up a lung. “You - what?”

“Kids, Ollie,” Susan laughed. This was the least funny thing I could think of. “I was thinking we could plan on getting pregnant in the fall.”

I hated the way she said ‘we,’ as if I were going to have anything to do with physically carrying a child. “I mean, I’m going to be _so_ busy in the fall, with the new gig and everything.”

“It’s not like the baby will immediately be here in September!” Susan chided, moving now so she could sit next to me on the couch. She was way too close for comfort and I really didn’t want to look at her. “We would have nine whole months to prepare.”

I just stayed quiet, eyes still on the TV. Was she insane? We were still so young - and she was even a year _younger_ than I was! We had plenty of time before we needed to go down that road.

“How many do you want, Ollie?” she asked after a few minutes. She moved so that she was laying down with her head in my lap. On instinct, I brought my hand down to her hair. I was, as always, disappointed to meet straight, thin locks rather than messy curls. I shrugged by way of answering. “I want a whole brood with you.”

I hated the thought of it. It made me feel sick. I didn’t even want to _marry_ her, let alone have the next Von Trapp family. I let my head fall onto the back of the couch and I closed my eyes. I wondered if, someday, Elio would have kids too. If they would be just as beautiful, just as brilliant as he was. I let my mind wander, thinking about what our kids would look like if it were at all possible for he and I to have them together. It made me smile, albeit sadly, but Susan took that as a cue to take me back into the bedroom.

The week before the wedding, I was worse for wear. I hadn’t been able to really hold down any food for the past week and a half. I felt tired and sick all the time. I was listless and uninterested in just about everything.

Susan didn’t seem to notice. She was in pre-wedding bliss. Her parents came into town the Monday before the wedding to help with last minute preparations. They were constantly at my apartment, even though they had a perfectly respectable hotel room they could use. Luckily, James and Robert took it upon themselves to get me out of the apartment.

“So, I know I said I was taking Alexandra to the wedding,” Robert started, looking over at me as we walked to our usual coffee spot. “But she and I are old news and I really think Isabella is _the one_ .” It seemed that _every_ girl was ‘the one.’ “Mind if I bring her instead?”

I shrugged and rolled my eyes behind my sunglasses. “I really don’t care who you bring, Rob.”

“Awesome!” His enthusiasm was due to either him not picking up on my disinterest or him steadily ignoring it. “Just tell Suze to make sure her place card says Isabella and _not_ Alexandra.”

“If you think I’m asking her to change anything now, you’re delusional. Tell her yourself.”

We sat at a table outside, and I was reminded of my first morning in Crema with Elio: coffee in the piazza, sun shining down on us. My chest was tight, as it had been for the past eleven months. _Fuck_ , I thought, squeezing my eyes shut, _has it really been that long since I met him?_ Elio was still constantly on my mind, nearly a year later.

I had written to Samuel a few weeks prior to tell him I was getting married. I didn’t ask after Elio or request that he know. Only that I was probably accepting a teaching position at Columbia and that I would be marrying in June. I got his response only a few days prior, and I kept it folded up in my pocket at all times since. I shoved my hand into my pocket just to feel the soft, creased paper, already knowing the words by heart.

_Oliver, our muvi star,_

_Welcome to the world of academia; I wish you well._

_Annella and I are celebrating our anniversary in two weeks. Summer weddings are lovely._

_I’ll say this to you: we believe we seek happiness in love, but it isn’t always that simple. What we actually seek, at times, is familiarity – which complicates any plans we might have for happiness._

_We recreate the feelings we knew in childhood. It was as children that we first came to know and understand what love meant. Unfortunately, the lessons we picked up may not have been straightforward. The love we knew as children may have come entwined with less pleasant dynamics: being controlled, feeling humiliated, being abandoned, never communicating. In short: suffering._

_As adults, we then reject candidates whom we encounter, not because they are wrong, but precisely because they are too well-balanced (too mature, too understanding, too reliable), and this rightness feels unfamiliar and alien, almost oppressive. We head instead to candidates to whom our unconscious is drawn, not because they will please us, but because they will frustrate us in familiar ways._

_We marry the wrong people because the right ones feel wrong, undeserved; because we have no experience of health, because we don’t ultimately associate being loved with feeling satisfied._

_I hope, Oliver, that you act with integrity._

_Samuel_

“I can’t,” I said suddenly, pushing up out of my chair. Robert and James both squinted up at me.

“Oliver,” James said hesitantly, as if trying to calm a raging beast. “Why don’t you sit back down?”

I shook my head and grabbed my wallet and sunglasses off the table. “Sorry, I have to go.” I sprinted away, all the way back up to my apartment. I couldn’t marry Susan. I just couldn’t put either of us through this. I was setting us up for failure. Sure, I couldn’t marry Elio. I couldn’t be with him, period. Samuel had made no mention of Elio in his letter, but I was sure that he could tell from my lackluster admission of marriage that he knew I wasn’t in love with Susan.

I let myself into my apartment to find Susan going over the final seating chart with her parents. “We need to cancel the wedding,” I said, panting, sweat rolling down my forehead and neck.

Susan spun around, eyes wide. “What? Why? What happened, Oliver?” She rushed over, taking my face in her hands. She still didn’t get it. “Is everyone okay?”

“Susan,” I breathed, taking her wrists and gently removing her hands from my face. “Sue, I’m sorry. I just...I can’t do it.”

“Oliver, we can’t postpone now. Look, baby, getting cold feet is norm-”

“Susan,” I said again, a bit of sharpness coming through. “I don’t want to postpone the wedding. I’m not getting cold feet. I don’t want to get married _period_.”

She broke down, as I predicted she would, fat ugly tears rolling down her face. Her dad gathered her in his arms, and she wept against him as her mother gave me a stern talking to, going through the usual, “How could you embarrass us?” and “Why have you been so cruel to her?” I just stood there, arms hanging uselessly at my sides, shoulders slumped.

“Ship her belongings to the house in Connecticut,” her mother instructed on the way out. The door slammed behind them and I let out a breath I felt like I’d been holding since Christmastime.

I sunk to the floor and hunched in on myself. My apartment was silent aside from my heaving breaths. My mind was racing, my heart was pounding, I was shivering and sweating at the same time - I felt like I was losing all control. I didn’t have Susan as a backup anymore. I was truly alone, without my Elio, and my heart ached for him. If only Samuel had written _something_ about Elio, just a single word or hint, I would have called him.

I thunked my head back against the wall and squeezed my eyes shut tight as tears rolled down my cheeks.

“Oliver, Oliver, Oliver…”

 

**Part IV**

*

_No summer's high_

_No warm July_

_No harvest moon to light one tender August night_

_No autumn breeze_

_No falling leaves_

_Not even time for birds to fly to southern skies_

*

I hated summer with all of my heart. July marked one year since I had arrived at the Perlman's. How different I was from _that_ Oliver. No summer before nor any summer after could trump the one spent in Italy. The warm weather and afternoons in the park made me long for Monet’s Berm. Ice cream would never taste as good as that tiny gelateria in Crema. Short shorts and espadrilles were my uniform the summer prior; now they sat discarded at the bottom of my closet. I couldn’t even bring myself to ride my bike like I usually did. The ache in my ass from the bike seat was reminiscent of Elio taking his turn fucking me, or of Elio gingerly sitting upon his own bike after I’d been inside him.

I didn’t hear from Susan at all, not like I was expecting to. As instructed, I shipped all of her belongings back to the house in Connecticut. In return, I received a small box with my grandmother’s engagement ring. I hadn’t even thought to ask for it back, and I was glad someone, probably her father, had the good sense to return it.

James and Robert tried hard to cheer me up, but nothing they did seemed to quell my eternal despair. Would I ever feel whole again? Would I ever feel some semblance of normal?

To top it all off, Columbia was pestering me nonstop about the position. I had tentatively accepted a teaching position for the fall in the Philosophy department. I would be teaching three entry level classes, but I wasn’t sure if that was exactly the position I wanted. They gave me until the second week of August to make a decision.

I wasn’t sure in which direction I wanted my life to go. I constantly felt listless and anxious. Perhaps I needed to leave New York, start over somewhere fresh. Or maybe I needed to take the job at Columbia and just stick it out. I wished that there was someone I could talk to about everything. I tried with James and Robert, but they weren’t as helpful as I wished they would be. Besides, Robert was very busy with Aly Wellers, who was the current girl of the month.

James had accepted a teaching position at Columbia, so I would be working alongside him. That was, perhaps, my only solace in that prospect. I would have a good friend there with me, every step of the way, as we transitioned from students to full-time professors. Robert picked up a gig with the Met as a research analyst.

“Maybe I’ll just flip a coin,” I said one night as James and I cleaned up after our indulgent meal of Chinese takeout. Robert was off with Aly for the second time that week, which was a huge show of commitment on his part.

“You can’t make a life decision with a coin flip,” James admonished. He was always too sensible for my tastes. “Why don’t you ask Professor Johnston?”

“You know he’s going to tell me to take the position at Columbia. He wouldn’t give up the chance to rope another soul into that department.” I couldn’t hide the despair from my voice, despite the fact that James was taking up a job in the same department.

“I dunno, Oliver,” he sighed, turning to lean against the counter and face me. “That sounds like it’s your answer right there.”

For me, though, it wasn’t good enough, and I trudged through July with many sleepless nights.

I ended up declining the position at Columbia. I felt sick for the rest of the afternoon after the phone call. I wasn’t ready to jump into that life, yet I still had no idea what I wanted to do or who I wanted to be. I just knew that Columbia wasn’t the right place for me at that time. Needless to say, James and Professor Johnston were both upset but, just like walking away from Elio and staving off my marriage, I knew this would be the best decision in the long run.

It seemed that at the ripe young age of 26, my life was made up entirely of disappointment at every turn.

Summer left, and with it went my company. James and Robert both officially started their new gigs the first week of September. I was left alone, with no one to talk to, no one to see, and nothing to do. I forced myself to go on walks while the weather was still nice, but I just wanted to seasons to really change. I ached for the leaves to turn bright reds and oranges and fall, only to be crushed beneath my feet. I needed a blanket of snow over New York to stifle the sounds of the city. Moreso, I needed an excuse to stay in my apartment.

Robert, at least, got me free admittance to the museum, so I found myself going nearly every afternoon for all of September and October I tried going to new and special exhibits, but most times I found myself in the Greek and Roman sections, admiring the sculptures. Samuel’s words from the summer before constantly echoed in my mind.

“Muscles are firm, not a straight body in these statues. They're all curved, sometimes impossibly curved, and so nonchalant, hence their ageless ambiguity, as if they're daring you to desire them.”

It was nearing closing one afternoon as I sat on a lonely bench in the sculpture garden. The sun was setting behind me, casting an orange glow over the almost eerily still sculptures. The wing was empty, the only sounds coming from a group of tourists in the next room over. I stared up at the face of a bronze youth. Curls spilled over his head, one errant strand covering his forehead. His limbs were wiry and nimble as he struck an almost unnatural looking pose. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the scrap of paper and pen I’d been carrying around with me all week to continue what I had been writing. I’d only gotten down two words: Dear Samuel. I crossed them out then wrote them over again.

_Dear Samuel,_

_I called off the wedding. I declined the position at Columbia. I think I’m lost. How can I act with integrity if I can’t find myself?_

_Oliver_

I wanted to write more, but I wasn’t sure how to put what I was feeling into words. I most definitely didn’t want to say, “Hey, Pro, I’m in love with your son and I wish I could take him away with me.” Nor could I invite myself back to Italy for more research. I sighed and put my head in my hands, sitting there like that until a security guard politely, but warily, let me know the museum was closing. Her voice was gentle and timid, as if she were afraid I were a bomb about to blow.

I posted the letter on the way back to my apartment. I wasn’t sure if he would answer me. Maybe he would see my plea for help as a desperate attempt to escape adulthood. Maybe that’s what all of this was anyways.

It was a full two weeks later when I received his response. When I saw a postage stamp from Italy, I slammed my tiny mailbox door closed and practically sprinted up the six flights of stairs to my apartment. I slammed the door behind me and sunk down to the floor, tearing into the envelope. My hands were shaking and my heart was pounding. If anyone were going to give me sound advice, it would be Samuel.

_Oliver,_

_From the decisions you have made it seems as though you already are living with integrity, even if you don’t recognize it yet._

_I would like to invite you to come to Milan. I am taking on a new project, and I could use your help._

_I have refrained from mentioning Elio, as I was unsure if you wanted to move on with your life. From your last letter and, if I’m being honest with myself, the letter prior, it doesn’t seem like this is the case._

_He misses you terribly._

_He found someone to share his beauty and light with and, as a parent, it’s the most I could ever want for my son. I’ve always wished he would find a companion and confidante who won’t falter. Someone who will love his flaws. If you don’t mind my being bold, that partner is you, Oliver. I can only imagine that you are going through the same despair that he is. Not only would I like you to come to be my research partner, I would like you to come to be my son’s partner. Partner in life, in crime, in love. To know he will be safe and valued is a joy I cannot describe._

_Think it over. Call him when you decide to come._

_Samuel_

 

**Part V**

*

_I just called to say I love you_

_I just called to say how much I care, I do_

_I just called to say I love you_

_And I mean it from the bottom of my heart_

*

I called Elio the next morning. I had obviously accepted Samuel’s offer the moment I read his letter, but by that time it was midnight in Italy and I didn’t want to disturb them. I woke up at 7am and before doing anything else, I dialed the number in Milan that Samuel had included in his letter.

“Pronto?”

What luck - it was Elio! My breath hitched and I gripped the phone tighter.

“Elio,” I started. My voice cracked and tears pricked at my eyes. I tried hard to hold back a sob, but it was useless. It was the first time I’d heard his voice in over a year. There was a pause on the other line before I heard him again, soft and far away.

“Oliver?”

“Yeah, it’s me, Elio. I’m here.”

There was silence again, just the two of us breathing into the receiver.

“Your dad asked me to come to Milan to work with him. I accepted."

“That’s great! I’m sure it’ll be very exciting.” Elio’s response was too fast and punched out. I could tell immediately that he was upset and I rushed to explain.

“Elio! Elio, I said yes because I want to see you again. I want to be with you again. But if you don’t want me, I won’t come.”

Another silence, this time deafening. My entire life depended on his answer.

“When’s the next flight?”

I laughed at that and shook my head. My Elio.

“My lease is up in three weeks.”

Before Elio could answer, Annella and Samuel joined in on the call. I could so clearly see them huddled together on the phone in the back office.

“You’ve accepted my offer?” Samuel asked, obviously knowing the answer.

“I have. I can look into flights tonight. I can be there as early as December 1st.”

“Papà! Papà, deve venire al più presto. Per favore, Papà!” Elio’s rushed Italian was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard.

“Yes, Elly-Belly. Oliver, we’ll see you the first of December. Let us know your flight information so we can come pick you up from the airport.”

I said my goodbyes to the Perlmans, and they wished me good luck in packing before leaving me on the line with Elio.

“Elio...You’re coming home,” he stated, matter of fact.

I was his again. I was Elio, he was Oliver, we were Elio-Oliver and I was ready to put the past year behind me and do what I should have done ages ago.

**Author's Note:**

> If people are interested, I may or may not write a series from Oliver's POV based on more Stevie Wonder songs....we shall see...


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